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“Life is fleeting, yes, but also eternal; it will always find a way to begin again.”
― Kelseyleigh Reber, If I Resist

“There is never enough time to enjoy what you love.”
― Joyce Rachelle

“Ludwik Szatera was a passionate lover of nostalgia. He could never come to terms with the eternal passage of men, objects and events. Each moment inexorably turning into the past was to him precious, invaluable, and he witnessed its passing with a sense of inexpressible regret.”
― Stefan Grabiński, In Sarah's House

“No one dies except on his own day. You are throwing away none of your own time; for what you leave behind does not belong to you.”
― Seneca, Letters from a Stoic

“I have learned how to make time pass, but I never stop thinking of you.”
― Abbas Kazerooni, On Two Feet and Wings

“Douglas eyed a high cloud passing that had never been that shape before and would never be that shape again.”
― Ray Bradbury, Farewell Summer

“No money can buy back the moment that is gone”
― Debasish Mridha

“The leaf-light flickered on the paper-thin skin of the old men's wrists, the shadows alternating with fading sunlight. They moved in a soft whisper.”
― Ray Bradbury, Farewell Summer

“كنا نمضي الوقت معاً، فنحتسي أكواب الشاي، وندخن، ونلعب الورق من أجل تمضية الوقت، ذلك الجبار الذي يستعبدنا ويخضعنا جميعاً لسلطانه، كنا نريد أن نقتله بلعب الورق، لكننا كنا نقتل جزءاً من حياتنا بقتلنا له، وفي النهاية سنستنفد ما نمتلكه منه، ونموت، ويبقى هو ليقتل المزيد من الناس، وأحلامهم وآمالهم وطموحاتهم. كنّا نحارب ضد كائنٍ خالد في معركة الانتظار تلك.”
― جلجامش نبيل, Gilgamesh Nabeel, صراع الأقنعة

“Time, You Old Gypsy Man
Will you not stay,
Put up your caravan
Just for one day?”
― Ralph Hodgson

“I remember a game Omar and I used to play, when we were small. Scorpions would glow in the dark, after we'd loaded them up with light by shining our flashlight on them. Not every scorpion would glow like this, but some would-about one in a hundred, maybe one in a thousand. We'd lift up rocks, under the moonlight, and shine our lights on the scorpions' backs, looking for such a specimen. And then when we'd find one, we'd fill him with the light from our flashlights, then shut the lights off and follow him, glowing in the dark, across the caliche streambeds, across the slick rock, and across the hills, following him until the glimmer faded, and there was only silence.”
― Rick Bass, The Sky, The Stars, The Wilderness

“In time, all fortunes part ways.”
― Trent Lindsey, Those Wyrd and Wonderful